A Series of Random Moments
by stonecoldfox
Summary: A series of random moments in the lives of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Sometimes sweet, sometimes funny, sometimes angsty. Always RANDOM.
1. Hermione's Request

SUMMARY: A series of random moments in the lives of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Sometimes sweet, sometimes funny, sometimes angsty. Always RANDOM.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All hail Queen JK.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't know how far I'm going to go with this series. I'm lazy and get distracted easily, so if it's only a few chapters, I'm sorry. I will try. Although, I guess it'll be a much less off-putting task, being that it's only a series of "moments" not a drawn-out epic or something, which I would SUCK at.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A SERIES OF RANDOM MOMENTS  
  
  
  
  
  
December 21st, 2003 By the lake.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, I seem to have left my English to Hermione Dictionary in the dungeons. What is it you are trying to tell me?" Severus said irritably, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"You heard me," Hermione told her husband calmly, wrapping her cloak closer around her body. She smirked as he paced up and down along the shore, glaring at the ground. She found it truly satisfying that after four years she still had the power to bewilder him.  
  
"Yes, but I'd like to hear it again, if you don't mind."  
  
She sighed. "I want us to have a baby, Severus."  
  
Severus frowned at his young wife quizzically, still not sure he was hearing her right. "Baby. Is that some sort of euphemism for something? Is there a double entendre at play? Are you asking me to buy one of those muggle automobiles or something?"  
  
Hermione laughed openly and approached her husband. Her arms snaked around his waist and she pressed her rosy cheek to his chest. "Darling.. I want us to have a child. Together. I want a little Snape-Granger. Mostly Granger, of course," she giggled and looked up at her husband, who seemed to be starting to grasp the situation.  
  
"Of course," he repeated, gazing into the space above Hermione's head. She frowned, concerned at his behaviour. It was most unlike him to be so.. Unresponsive. She thought he almost looked.. Quite terrified, actually.  
  
"What are you thinking?" she asked cautiously.  
  
He looked down at her and blinked repeatedly. The flummoxed look gradually disappeared from his face and was replaced with a wicked sort of grin.  
  
"Just wondering when you wanted to start, love." 


	2. Detention in Seventh Year

SUMMARY: A series of random moments in the lives of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Sometimes sweet, sometimes funny, sometimes angsty. Always RANDOM.  
  
RATING: G  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All hail Queen JK.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm not really happy with chapter one. I might change it. I just think it's.. lacking. It was written in about five minutes, though, so what do you expect? I hope this chapter isn't too rushed. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! All feedback is VERY much appreciated.  
  
  
  
  
  
A SERIES OF RANDOM MOMENTS  
  
  
  
  
  
{Seventh Year. The dungeons.}  
  
  
  
Hermione sat quietly at a stone table in the dungeons, her arms folded defiantly across her chest. Her face was set in a frown as she glared at the man sitting at his desk at the front of the room, marking third year exam papers. Long minutes passed and the Head Girl grew more and more angry, even though she was taking the time to try and calm herself enough to speak. Finally, just as she was about to break her silence with a few well-chosen curses, he spoke - without so much as a glance in her direction.  
  
"If you're trying to find the right words with which to abuse me, Miss Granger, I suggest you make a fierce attempt to keep that mouth of yours closed."  
  
Miss Granger, she thought furiously. What a joke! Last week it was 'Oh Hermione.. Oh GOD, Hermione!' Then she gets caught sneaking around the castle at night and suddenly he turns into Frosty the Black, Overgrown, Snarling Snowman, and doesn't say a civil word to her all week. Hermione's lips thinned as she considered the fact that had she been sneaking around the castle at night to visit him, it would have been an entirely different matter. Who the hell did he think he was?  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are?"  
  
"Here we go.." Severus groaned, throwing his quill on his desk and leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Don't think I don't know exactly why you gave me detention, Severus Snape," Hermione said, scowling her most ferocious scowl. "I'm certain it has less to do with my being out of bed at night, and more to do with being out of bed at night with Harry. You're jealous," she finished sharply.  
  
"That's Professor Snape to you. And no, I'm not. Now unless you have something remotely intelligent to say, you can be quiet and let me mark my exams. Unless, of course, you'd like another detention?" With that, he picked up his quill again and proceeded to ignore her.  
  
She watched him silently for a few moments, taking particular note of the almost undetectable twitching of his upper lip. She'd hit a nerve.  
  
"It's not as though we were doing anything," she continued innocently, as Snape's quill scratched away furiously. "Not anything significant, anyway. I mean.. Kissing doesn't really count, does it?"  
  
"You were WHAT?" he bellowed, standing up suddenly. Hermione's mouth curled into a grin.  
  
"But Professor.. You're not jealous?"  
  
Snape blinked, then frowned in embarrassment as he realised he'd been had. Quickly recovering himself, he swept towards her desk and towered over her menacingly. "I don't appreciate game-playing, Miss Granger. You've earned yourself another detention for your insolence, and I'm taking ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione shrugged, despite the fact that her cheeks were turning red and her eyes were downcast. "It was worth it."  
  
"Twenty points."  
  
Her head snapped up angrily and she looked him directly in the eye. "Fine!"  
  
"Thirty. Keep going, Hermione."  
  
"Oh, I'm Hermione now, am I? Charming."  
  
"Forty!"  
  
"Fifty!"  
  
"Don't tempt me, brat."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened in rage as Snape glided back to his desk. She slowly stood up, her hands balling into fists. She could hardly believe what he'd just called her. It had only been two months since they'd admitted their mutual love - two months that she had spent getting to know his somewhat less malevolent side -, and already he was reverting to his Evil-Potions-Master ways. Hermione calmly gathered her things and moved towards the door.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked coolly. She turned around to glare at him.  
  
"To my room. Detention finished five minutes ago, anyway."  
  
He looked at the clock above his desk. "Fine."  
  
"Fine!" She turned on her heel and stormed towards the door. As she reached it, she was stopped yet again.  
  
"Hermione?" She turned around, narrowing her eyes. He sat at his desk, quill in hand, looking at her with what seemed to be a mild amount of trepidation.  
  
"What?" she snapped.  
  
"Just so we're clear. You weren't.. doing.. anything with Potter. Were you?"  
  
She really wanted to leave him hanging. It would have been so easy just to shrug, smile mysteriously and walk away. But something in his uncertain gaze filled her with pity, and she couldn't bring herself to do it.  
  
"No, Severus. We were just visiting Hagrid."  
  
"And you haven't.. ever?"  
  
"No, Severus."  
  
For a brief, fleeting moment, something akin to relief flooded his eyes, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. But it was only for a moment. The stern Professor was back within two seconds.  
  
"Very well. Now go to bed."  
  
Hermione smiled as she left the dungeons, firmly deciding it would be at least three days before she forgave him properly. 


	3. Miscarriage

March 2005

Hermione lay in the enormous bed she shared with her husband, curled up in the foetal position. Her face was drawn and pale. Her eyes were red. She had cried almost constantly for days. Just as she thought there were no more tears to be cried, they would begin again.

But now it seemed her eyes were finally dry. She felt hollow. Her hands rested on her belly, the place where a life used to be. A life they created together, she and Severus. He'd been so excited when he'd learned she was carrying his child. They were finally pregnant, after so many months of trying. And now he was gone. Their little boy was gone from their lives before they even knew him and he wasn't coming back.

"Sebastian….." she whispered.

They'd argued for so long over a name. She'd wanted Harrison, but of course he refused. Sounded too much like Harry. His choice was William, but her least favourite cousin had been called William and the name brought up too many bad memories. When they came across Sebastian, the first name they'd both loved, it was as if a light had been turned on and neither could figure out why it took them so long to decide. Now that they had chosen Sebastian, it seemed obvious that no other name could possibly have sufficed.

"Hermione? Love….." his soft voice pierced through her daydreams. She wished he would go away. How could she possibly face him? "Darling, please look at me."

His long, soft fingers caressed her cheek while his other hand covered hers on her stomach. They stayed that way for a long time. He leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Please Hermione. Talk to me. You haven't spoken for days. I need to know that you're all right."

She looked up at him and immediately his heart broke. Her eyes were so full of disbelief and shame and sorrow. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I wanted him so badly, Severus. I just wanted to hold my little boy."

Severus pulled her into his arms and finally let his own tears fall. "I know, darling. So did I."

"I don't know what happens next. What am I supposed to do now? I don't know what I'm meant to be doing. Please don't leave me."

"I love you so much, my love," he whispered, rocking her back and forth. "I love you so much. You're supposed to be here with me. That's what happens next. You stay here with me and I love you until the world disappears."

And that's what they did.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: No, this isn't the end. It was just a nice way of ending the chapter without being too abrupt. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, guys. I've had life issues. I'm hoping to update more regularly from now on, but please read and review so I know whether or not I should bother! Thanks.


	4. The Grade

LATE SPRING, SEVENTH YEAR.

The seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed out of Potions in a mass of black robes. Most wore pained expressions and slumped shoulders, a few (Slytherins) looked slightly pleased, but all seemed in a hurry to exit the dungeons. You see, today was a special day – today the class had received their grades for the final Potions assignment in their long careers at Hogwarts; assignments they had handed in the previous week, with no small amount of anxiety weighing on their chests.

"B-minus," Harry said, grinning and holding up his paper for his two best friends to see. He, Ron and Hermione had just walked out into the hall. "Not bad at all, I'd say. Sirius will be pleased."

Ron looked at his paper thoughtfully. "I got a C-minus," he said, and then shrugged. "Well, at least it's a pass, right?"

They both looked over at Hermione, who seemed to be concentrating very hard on her own piece of paper.

"'Mione?"

"What?" she said, frowning distractedly. The boys looked at each other strangely.

"How did you go? A-plus as usual?"

She didn't reply, but continued to stare at her paper. Harry raised one eyebrow and looked at Ron, smirking.

"I guess it's just an A this time. How devastating!" They grinned for a moment, but stopped when they noticed Hermione still hadn't replied.

"Well?!" Ron demanded. "What's your mark?"

Hermione looked up then. She wasn't smiling. "I'll see you both later. I have to speak with Professor Snape."

With that, she turned around and stalked back towards the Potions classroom. In a billowing of robes that looked somewhat familiar to the two boys, she had disappeared behind the heavy wooden doors of the room.

"Mental as ever," Ron observed, and the two Gryffindors made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

 *

Neville was still in the classroom, Hermione noted with disdain. He had evidently spilled the contents of his book bag and was now in the process of cleaning up a pot of ink that had been splattered all over his belongings, his body and the floor. Though ordinarily she would stop to help, today Hermione merely stepped over the blue spots on her way to the front of the classroom. She stood in front of Snape's desk for a moment, expecting him to at least glance in her direction. He did not.

"Professor Snape. May I speak with you?"

"As much as I would love to chat, Miss Granger," he drawled sarcastically.  "I _am_ actually a teacher at this godforsaken school and unfortunately for me I have another class to prepare for. Good day."

Hermione didn't even have it in her to scowl. Instead, her forehead wrinkled and beads of sweat began forming near her temples.

"Please, Professor," she said, lowering her voice so that Neville would not overhear her pleading with the Evil Potions Git. He looked up at her sourly, and for a second she thought he was about to demand that she leave. Instead, he studied her intently for a moment, and then turned his attentions to Neville.

"Longbottom!" he roared. "Just leave that bloody mess and get out of my sight!"

Neville did so, picking up his things from all over the floor and scampering out the door as quickly as possible. Hermione didn't see him leave, for her eyes were still fixed on her Potions Master. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to begin.

"You know how hard I worked on this," she said. He nodded. "You know how many hours I put into this project. How many nights I fell asleep at three am in the library. How many Hogsmeade weekends I forsook to make sure I covered every angle, got everything right." He nodded again. She stopped speaking for a long moment, but he made no further move to respond. "Have I made you angry, Severus? Is there something I've done to upset you?" There was the slightest hint of accusation in her voice.

His eyes narrowed and turned cold. "I know exactly what you're implying Hermione, and I suggest you think very carefully about the next words that come out of your mouth."

Hermione faltered, but kept going. "What else could it possibly be? This project is exceptional, and you know it. I worked hard, and you've given me a B-minus. The same as Harry. I read Harry's work, Severus, and as much as it pains me to say so, it was definitely not on par with my own. Not even remotely so." She paused, her cheeks flushing. Hermione was never one to compare her work with other students, especially those less talented than her, but she had to stand up for herself. "I can only deduce that you're mad at me for some reason. So please, enlighten me. What have I done to push you into this?" she slapped her paper down on his desk for emphasis.

Severus glowered at her. "How dare you. How _dare_ you suggest that I would let our personal affairs affect the way I grade your work!"

"What else am I to think? This mark is unfair!"

"No, Hermione, what's unfair is your constant insistence that I am some sort of monster, only out to spite you and your Gryffindor pals," he sneered at her, standing up and leaning across the desk. "Go on, then! Run to Dumbledore! Tell him all about it."

She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion, disbelief and disgust. Severus continued to hiss at her furiously.

"Go and tell the Headmaster all about our sordid little affair and how my sexual harassment has gone so far as to affect your chances of getting into a decent University. Go and cry your little heart out to him and have your mark changed to whatever you think you deserve. I wash my hands of you and your childish arrogance." He pushed himself off the desk with his hands and walked towards the door to hold it open for her to leave.

She stayed where she was, sitting in the chair and looking down at her hands. Two long minutes passed while he stood there, holding the door, and she still did not move. Finally the door slammed shut and Severus strode angrily back to his desk and sat down. He leaned his forearms on the dark wooden surface and looked at Hermione.

"Do you really think I'm that childish? That I would jeopardise your future and mine for the sake of one poor grade?" she asked quietly. 

"Sometimes I wonder, Hermione," Severus sighed. It was at that moment that he thought he saw her face crumple, but she dropped her head so quickly that he couldn't be sure. To his chagrin, the Professor found that he felt some amount of satisfaction in the fact that he'd reduced her to tears. Was this the effect he was looking for? Was he truly the sadistic bastard they all thought he was? Or was he merely taking his anger out on her, as usual?

"I shouldn't have to explain this to the brightest student Hogwarts has seen in twenty years, but I suppose I must. Surely you know I hold you to different standards than I do the other students. Yes, the assignment you handed in was far better than Potter's. That's to be expected. But was it really your best work? Was it an improvement on the last piece you completed? Are you pushing yourself, Hermione?"

She breathed in deeply, composing herself. "So it wasn't better than my last piece. Is that it? You're punishing me because I haven't improved since February?"

"This has nothing to do with punishment, you half-witted child. You're obviously not in the mood to listen to reason right now. Shall we continue this at a later date?"

"No," she mumbled. "I understand."

There was a brief silence, and then Severus chuckled deeply and suddenly. Hermione looked up in surprise and wonderment, for it was such a rare sound, even to her ears. "Honestly, Hermione, you act as though it's the end of the world. You must know that absolutely nothing at this point could affect your chances of getting into any damn university in Britain, be it muggle or magical. I might have failed you altogether, and still you'd be offered places in forty different schools all over the country."

Even modest Hermione had to admit he was right. Again. Damn him.

"Will you give me another chance? Let me do the assignment over? I'll get it right this time. I'll push myself."

"No," he said, shaking his head resolutely. "I wouldn't do it for any other student, and I shan't do it for you."

She nodded, then stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. Of course she was still rather devastated, but they both knew she'd get over it eventually. Hermione turned to go, then changed her mind. In an act of sheer humility, Hermione did something completely uncharacteristic and, walking over to where Severus sat, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. She lingered there a moment before she walked out the door, leaving him looking utterly enchanted and completely unlike himself.


	5. The World's Greatest Actress

THE WORLD'S GREATEST ACTRESS  
  
Post-War. Three years after graduation.  
  
She arrived at Hogwarts late Friday night, as she always did. And, as always, she had what was virtually a great sack of textbooks weighing her down, in addition to the small overnight bag she brought with her. And, as always, she looked thin and tired and drawn, and the sweet, relieved smile she gave him as she entered the dungeons was not enough to disguise the shadows under her eyes or her pale, pale face.  
  
She went to him, sitting over by the fireplace in an armchair, and plonked down in his lap in her achingly familiar way. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and snaked her arms around his waist.  
  
"Thank Merlin it's Friday," she said, sighing in a deeply satisfied way.  
  
But he said not a word. And though it was not unusual for him to be quiet for long periods while she did all the talking, on this particular occasion there was a reason for his silence and she felt it before she'd even looked up at him.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
Immediately he gave her a push that was gentle but firm, and she was forced awkwardly to her feet. He stood as well, taking a moment to tower over her in an intimidating manner before moving over to the mantel above the fire. She stayed put, taken aback at his coldness. Of course, he was taciturn by nature, even cruel to an extent – she knew this, and accepted it. Even loved him for it, in her own way. But this was different. There was usually a reason for his fits of unkindness, as she called them. He was cruel, yes, but not unfair (at least not to the woman he loved). If he was ever unpleasant or mean to her, it was because she had given him reason to be (or he believed her to have done so). But how could she have done so in this case? She hadn't seen him all week, and the last time they'd been together there had been nothing done on her behalf to provoke this kind of treatment from him. So Hermione stood, arms by her side, frown on her face, waiting for an explanation.  
  
"Well?" she asked momentarily, watching him as he leaned on the mantel, brooding.  
  
Severus turned around sharply, and Hermione winced. It was not like her, and she was immediately angry with herself for doing it. It simply wouldn't do to revert to their former roles of menacing professor and fearful schoolgirl every time he became cross with her. They were both adults and could handle their problems in an adult manner. Hermione breathed in deeply and drew her shoulders back, matching his gaze.  
  
"Severus, what's going –"  
  
"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" he cut her off harshly.  
  
She shook her head, looking confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Are you hiding anything from me, Hermione?" he asked in a mockingly inquisitive way, as though he already knew the answer. "Is there something you're afraid to tell me?"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened briefly and her mouth snapped shut. He couldn't possibly know... He couldn't possibly...  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said again, but she had lost her former self-assuredness and there was an almost undetectable shake in her voice.  
  
He picked up a small case from the mantel and threw it directly at her. Due to her poor reflexes, it hit her in the arm with a small thump and fell to the floor. She didn't look down. Her eyes were still trained on him, now betraying no hint of emotion. She kept her face impassive and did not speak for several long moments.  
  
"Pick it up," he finally said in his most quiet, dangerous voice. But she didn't need to pick it up. She knew exactly what it was. "Now, Hermione."  
  
"Where did you get it?"  
  
"Pick it up. I won't ask again."  
  
"WHERE DID YOU GET IT?" she yelled at him. The trepidation that had been building in her gave way to outright indignation. "You have no right to-"  
  
He closed the distance between them in three long strides. Grabbing her wrist, he bent to pick up the case and then pulled her across the room to an upright wooden chair and pushed her into it. He slammed the case on the table in front of her.  
  
"Do you like to see me like this, Hermione? Does it please you to make me angry?"  
  
"No, it doesn't please me," she said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Then why?" he said. "Why are you doing it? Why now, after everything we went through before?"  
  
She shook her head, staring at the table. "Where did you get it?" she asked again quietly.  
  
He made a noise, obviously disgusted with her. "Your roommate. It seems even Miss Abbott sees the destruction you wreak. She sent an owl to Dumbledore this morning."  
  
"Hannah. That nosy fucking bitch," Hermione muttered to herself.  
  
"That nosy fucking bitch probably just saved your life!" Severus snapped, sitting down in the chair opposite Hermione. They were both quiet for a minute. Neither seemed to know what to say next – Severus was angry, disappointed, disillusioned. Hermione felt betrayed, trapped, embarrassed. The reality of the situation sunk into both of them, and suddenly each felt exhausted.  
  
"Muggle drugs, Hermione?" he said finally. "You told me you'd stopped. You swore to me – you swore to Dumbledore! You asked us to trust you, and we did. We believed you."  
  
Hermione looked up sulkily, her eyes cruel and cold. "Yeah. Well. I'm the world's greatest actress."  
  
He laughed, but there was no humour in it. It was a low, mean laugh, deep in his throat. "No, you're not. You're just a stupid little girl who's good at telling lies."  
  
TBC 


End file.
